


Project 666

by Lilas1739



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Experimentations on feotus, Explicit Language, Human Experimentation, Human Incubator, Inappropriate Erections, Lemon, Necrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-06-15 06:01:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15406581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilas1739/pseuds/Lilas1739
Summary: A dark experiments involving dementors is kept top-secret by the Ministry of Magic. Thus, all the Death Eaters end up knowing about it one way or another.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> All rights to J.K Rowling and Sarah Clark aka MadCarrot or Viking-Carrot. Please, do read Harry Potter Books and Pottermore. You can check Madcarrot on Deviantart or Tumblr.  
> This fanfic is purely for kink and writing experimentation.

Prologue

Azkaban is short of support. The dementor population had dropped despite their intense breeding were "dropping like flies" due to not having enough happiness to feed on. Azkaban is also located away from civilization and their is no salesman skilled or stupid enough to travel kilometers just to bring in human food. Human flesh is also not an option since it is toxic in high doses, and it was in these eyeless creatures best interest to keep the "livestock" alive so their can feast on them for as long as possible. Traditionally, the headsman would be the one delivering alimentation, but thanks to new policies regarding child abuse, the replenishing of people with such skills (not being affected by the soul-sucking wraiths) will not occur if said policies were followed. Also, Bartimaeus Crouch Sr new that a paranoiac public will be highly displeased if a government employee trained a child into resisting "high security".


	2. Chapter one, The Strange Human Incubator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the arrest of the Lestranges and Barty Crouch Jr for the outrageous torture of the Longbottoms, things get filthy. Do note that I haven't read Harry Potter in english.

The atmosphere was vengeful and angry in the Courtroom. Four chained chairs surrounded by six dementors. A tall woman with strands smooth as black satin and heavy-lidded lichen-green eyes who sitted on her restrains as if they were a thrown. A boy with a mess of flaxen hair, milky skin and freckles was crying, almost fainting. Their were also two men. One was slender, handsome, tall and nervous and a scent of rotten flesh and vanilla-perfumed soap emitted from his body. The other was small and beefy (in a muscular way) like a caveman and looked dead-bored. Both had ink-colored hair and very light-blue eyes clouded pink at the bottom. Barty Crouch Sr, head of the tribunal, ordered:"Now let the trial began." He continued: "You have been brought to the Magical Council of Law, so that we may put judgement on you heinous crime...

-Father! begged the boy with straw colored hair

-...That we rarely heard of the like of it in this court, cutted the Minister of Law Enforcement in a louder voice; we have evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror, and subject him to the Cruciatus curse believing he has information on the whereabout of your banished master, He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named

-I didn't father! protested the almost young man in a shriek, I swear I didn't! Don't send me back to the dementors!

-You are further accused of casting further the Cruciatus Curse on his wife, when he did not had the information. You planned on restoring You-Know-Who to power and resume to the life of violence you led when he was strong...

-Mother! Please stop him!"

Soon after, the guilty verdict was proclaimed and the four sentenced to life in Azkaban. The youngest of the accused was begging for his freedom. The woman's face contracted in a demented happy-angry smile as she called  in a rasp proud voice: "Throw us in Azkaban, Crouch: we will wait! He will rise and He will come for us, he will reward us beyond any other of his followers! We alone were faithful. We alone tried to find him!"

In a corner, three Aurors were discussing. The trio was composed of a robust black man, a woman with a surgical mask and the famous Alastor Moody. The handsome man overheard a bit of their conversation as he was dragged away:

"You can already forget about the straw-locks. He's way to frail, said the negroid

-We can also forget about Rabastan. Ax-crazy Death Eater he is, but he is still a normally constituted man, as much that it disgusts me to confess it, reasoned Moody, his new "Mad-Eye" doing acrobatics

-We are now left with the freak who reaks corpse-juice and his crazy wife."completed the feminine voice beneath the mask. 

The lean Death Eater knew they were talking about him. What they were planning to do was beyond him, but he felt deep down it will be worse than the Crucio he so many times felt and inflicted. He was too scared to use Legilimency nor his talents as a psychic.

The dementors led him in a very deep cave that hid a room. It had white walls so austere it was almost creepy. It had a small table of swollen, darkened wood in it's North-East corner. On it rested several tubes, an enema bottle, sterilized cotton pads, some hydrogen peroxide and several surgical instruments. In the center of the South wall stood a rack-like structure. The room was lit by an old ink flagon refilled with a phosphorescent potion that gave a yellow-green light like the eyes of a cat. Inside was the lady in doctor attire from the courtroom and executioner Walden Macnair. He had an expression on his face that screamed: "This is stupid." The one with the surgical mask announced: " Here is the secret part of the verdict: Lord Rodolphus M. Lestrange, director of the Wizarding British Funeral Industry, for his heinous crimes of torture, murder, espionnage and sacrilege of sepulture for the account of the Dark Lord and for his own selfish pleasure, is deemed unworthy of life imprisonment and the Dementor's Kiss. He will serve Azkaban with his body."

Rodolphus lifted his cadaverously pale face as he was tied to the rack-like piece of furniture. Before he could bat an eyelash, he was stripped naked, exposing his aristocratic delicate silhouette for all eyes to see. He then lowered his head, hoping his thick, knee-long hair to cover his most private parts. The woman poured the disinfectant inside the thinnest of tubes that she later started cursed and inserted it at the tip of his urethra. The hex made the tube found it's way up his prostate. The criminal screamed in pain and shame. He squirmed and struggled later as his big intestine and rectum were sucked and wiped clean and empty. The "doctress" opened the pocket of her lab coat and pulled out a bottle filled with a liquid that had the consistency of heavy cream and the color of red clay. She forced it into the Death Eater's mouth. It had the taste of dandelion and rosemary. It was actually quit filling. Rodolphus had his eyes wide opened in horror minutes later, as surgical scissors were getting closer to his right one. He uttered a loud shriek of pain and sadness as his right eye was being gouged out and a cotton pad was put into his now empty eye socket to protect his brain. "Master Walden, do your deed!"ordered the Auror. The headsman stood tall in his 7 ft 2 glory and approached one of the hooded creatures. He emitted the same strange rasp breath as them. The dementor lifted his cloak, letting the prisoner see it`s footless skeletal body covered in scabby, decomposed flesh. It was filled to the brim with a mixture of a powder similar the one produced by fungi and post-mortem fluids.  The Death Eater, being the extreme necrophile he was, had his penis fully erect. Macnair took out a small metal cup and ran it alongside the ice-cold, putrefied flesh  of the soul-sucking demon, filling the item in said mixture. He shoved it into the now empty eye-socket and stept back, letting the dementor put it`s future "children?" inside the man throbbing in unbearable pain and pleasure. Macnair took a scalpel in his hand to make an opening in the abdomen of the criminal who almost fainted. 

Lestrange said in a mad, rasp, gasping voice:"Their`s still plenty of place in me, you fucking traitor! The Dark Lord will save me! He`ll be proud of all the dementors I incubated for him", pointing at the incision with his tongue.

End... 


	3. Chapter 2, Part 1315208518 of Project 666

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellatrix will discover something sore eyes should never have to see.

Two dementors and the tall black Auror conducted Bellatrix into the same very deep cave her husband was taken too. He was now gone into some cell...The room was creepy...Very creepy. The same small table didn't have the multiple tubes anymore, but just two: a very thin one and a thick one. There was a new enema bottle, some peroxide and fresh water but no more surgical instruments. The rack-like structure had been cleaned and disinfected. The Death Eater was soon tied to it and stripped naked. She left out a cry of humiliation she disguised as a mighty, enraged roar. "My body only belongs to three people: the Dark Lord, Rodolphus and me! I'LL HAVE YOUR EYEBALLS ON A PLATTER!"she screamed in indignation. When she saw the soul-sucking wraiths creeping closer, her instinct of self-preservation took over, making her partially submit.To her disgust, a very strong enemas had been practiced, leaving her big intestine, bladder and rectum completely empty. The dementors opened their rags, revealling their decayed, hollow bodies. They were different dementors then the two that were with her husband, so they were fully covered in the abhorrent mixture of "fungi powder" and posthum fluids. Soon, this substance filled her large intestine, uterus and bladder to the brim. Her abdomen felt as if it could explode any second. Mrs Lestrange was now panicking. In the best case scenario, she will simply be a host, an incubator for proto-dementors, insuring their early development goes well, while loosing her own fertility. When adult, they will be like their "parents", sucking her life away. In the worst case possible, she will give birth a half-breed abomination, having her blood pure as fresh snow soiled with whatever substance these dementors were carrying. This "child" will be an unmentionable creature even on Mudblood standards. A fluffy-haired pregnant woman protested: "Very intelligent! Using dangerous criminals to incubate 'ighly dangerous creatures. I'm sure nozing will go 'rong. All while 'aving loyal servants ready to do ze job." Bellatrix emitted a sigh of gratitude and fright. It was cleared into that woman's voice she had no mercy nor sick pleasure, just constating the impracticality of the situation. She was immediately dismissed by the Auror.  

The madwoman was dragged to a cell. Rodolphus was there, all tied up, his eye rolling in it's eye socket, his belly-button opened and he was panting rasply. The negroid explained: "He's filled to the maximum with dementor  _seeds._ The entrance for the brain and small intestine had been blocked to avoid it entering the brain, the blood and nervous system. His large intestines, stomach, prostate, bladder, eye socket and space between abdominal organs is now incubating proto-dementors with barely enough space to breath."  

Their lay the Lestrange couple, tied to chains, naked, reduced to incubators for the foulest creatures imaginable. The female Auror in the surgical mask and the tall negroid Auror stood in front of them. The lady with the doctor mask said: "I think a month of this will be enough payment for your crimes. After this, you'll be thrown in a cell. Try to keep each other sane. Goodbye!"

End  


	4. Chapter 3, On a Hot July Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape lies tired and in a hydraulic shock. He hears the door knock.

A year and a half later, at Spinner's End, 1 AM

Severus Snape couldn't sleep because of the heat and sadness. Lily, his obsession, was dead. He could not stop thinking, every time he was alone, at the remembrance of her fresh corpse, covering the body of her baby like a pretty shell. He tried to forget about her...It was summer so no idiotic children to teach and his potions activities was greatly reduced.  
He had swore to himself to never get drunk. He didn't want to be like his father...But he needed to drown his sorrows. Hydraulic shocks were a "nice" alternative. It was dangerous, but to is lying to the Dark Lord. But so is drinking four bottles of cheap beer at once. So Severus thought to himself it was somehow acceptable. The wizard was dizzy, his eyes haggard.

Despite not being in his normal self, heard the door knocking incessantly. Thinking it was hallucination due to drinking too much water, he went to bed. The door knocked harder. The Potion Master went checking. It was...Alastor Moody, who got a "Mad-Eye" recently. Snape didn't like this...was he arrested for being a Death Eater. It was still better to answer. Moody was dressed in a muggle-ish coat and a hat to cover his electric blue eye. He was pushing a stroller with a...baby wrapped in prune flannel. The Auror was covered in sweat. Severus was even more weirded out. He letted him in, knowing thanks to legilimency that the man was in an emergency, and invited him to sit down at the table. The Auror started: "The Ministry is doing some shady stuff on human fetuses. I don't know why and I don't wish to know. Thanks to a contract you've signed couple years ago, mister Snape, you get custody of this one, it's old enough to survive outside the lab or something if taken care of. 

-Can I know which contract? I wish to know what I'm engaging in, response the Potions Master 

-I'm afraid the news might damage your sanity."

Snape felt as if his common sense was now clouded by morbidity or that the man was lying. He wanted to know...Plus, he couldn't take care of child. He had an extremely busy schedule during 10 months of a year and his own emotional baggage. He asked: "Is there anyone else that might take care of it?

-I'm on a run. That child needs a home to stay. I won't tell you it's identity, but it's supposed to grow up in Azkaban."said Mad-Eye.

Legilimency showed the man was telling the truth, as strange as it was. Snape was a dark, cold and troubled individual who was a little bit of a bully. But he would never, in good conscience, let an innocent baby grow up in Azkaban. It was maybe blackmail, but...The soft side of him was falling in the trap? Very soon, the infant was in his arms. It was cold like snow, perhaps colder since he felt it from through thick layers of flannel and draps. 

_Could it be..._

His voice of reason was soon shut down by the voice of...unreason or self-preservation. Mad-Eye landed him different items: baby formula, a bottle, a couple of diapers, baby towels, a small baby-clothing thing, a pacifier and for some reason, a cushioned "fishnet". No trace of a name with that but it was written on a tag on the carrier that the infant was a girls.

_Girls should be named after cute flowers. This one has soft, white skin and seems to exude cold. I know it's the result of an unholy experiment but it's still a baby. Pearlwort Lily. Pearlwort after the antarctic pearlwort, one of the only flowers in antarctica.  Lily, after my darling Lily who is now..._

Yes, the baby will be registered Pearlwort Lily Snape...The last part stuck to his tongue like ash. The only problem was how he would hide and take care of her, with his potion classes and spying missions.

At 6 AM

The infant was crying. He probably needed to change her. It would be easier if the diaper wasn't frozen. He understood why it was sobbing. Having piss and/or feces frozen and stuck to you must be very unpleasant. He tried to unstick it, but the little infant now cried louder. He heard voices in his head...

_-I beg you, not Harry_

- _Avada Kadabra_

He was given a half-dementor to take care of. That though alone made him sick. Severus stopped what he was doing to go fetch scissors to cut the edge of the diaper. Taking it off the normal way will probably damage Pearlwort's skin. His fingers were numb with cold when he finished.

 _Great! Now I have a kid that can give me frostbite if I'm not careful. No, really!_  

The End


	5. Chapter four, Things are Getting Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius Malfoy reads something weird on Hogwarts registers...

Five years later, on a cold winter night Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry, in the section for Future Hogwarts Administration, listing all the names of discovered wizards in Great Britain. He then fell on the name: Pearlwort Lily...Potter. Wait, wait, wait. It must be some muggle born. But was it? Had he even really read the name  _Potter_. Surely his eyes were playing tricks on him. He decided to use Floo Powder to get back at his mansion. 

The next morning... 

Lucius combed his long platinum hair back and tied them into a flat ponytail wrapped in dark green fabric. Dobby passed him his robes, that he putted on. He went down stairs. Someone knocked at the door of the Great Hall. He ordered Dobby to let that person in. It was a young woman dressed in the Malfoy Apothecary uniform i.e a frilly dark green skirt with a black M at the bottom right, a white shirt and lab coat with a silver leaf shape at the top left and a surgical mask with a large red X covering it all. She took it off and did a slight bow before saying: "Lord Malfoy, a man from Glasgow delivered a gallon of a strange substance. What it is and what we do with it?

-Describe said substance, Miss, asked the lord in a jadded voice

-A honey-like liquid filled with a fungi-like powder. It really stinks, like posthum juice. And it's ice-cold. 

-Dementor fluid. Bring it in in cave A40."ordered Lucius bordey leaving towards his dining room.  For a brief moment, the assistant gave a look as if her boss went mad, but decided to obey. Mr. Malfoy was quite annoyed...Geez, young people know nothing nowadays. Anyway, he needed to go to the Ministry fast. Right after taking breakfast ( delicately roasted bread with butter and a fresh mint salad as a side) he headed to the chimney to head to the Department of Mysteries and the Department. 

_I need to find the reason of what I saw yesterday. Just to check if anything dangerous will go to Hogwarts._

By some  _mystery_ no information their. Maybe he just imagined it. He remembered that Draco wanted to play outside with his godbrother. Lucius knew that the kid couldn't handle sunlight unless taking special pills, sunscreen, a hat and dark glasses. 

_I just made a fuss for nothing silly me._

Or maybe that was his voice of unreason. He re-checked the list of newly discovered wizards of Britain. Again, he found the same name: Pearlwort Lily Potter. An hour later, it changed to Pearlwort Lily...Snape. 

_Please, someone tell me it's a coincidence. I'll just make some potions...sell them in my business. But wait...Snape has no children nor living romantic interest._

He went to buy sun-pills and went home. 

Enough nonsense. 

End.

 


	6. Chapter five, Replacement.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter 1993...  
> Walden Macnair is bloody pissed at the recent events. The ministry also don't need a part of his service.

Wizarding side of Kings Cross

Walden took his fluffy-haired son by his arm and Disapparated to a small island near his house, which was impossible to Apparate in. To reach it, he only had to walk, the water was so shallow except for a meter they needed to swim. The water was so cold it felt like lava, but the two were used to it. He casted a Drying Charm. They entered the home, in the living room. Walden was very pissed. His son had frequantations without his permission, poor grades in Transfiguration and he is now freezing.

His house was three story tall, a room per story, decided into sub-rooms. During, summer, the stones that composed the island were green with moth, but now are covered in thick ice with pretty reflections. 

Anyhow, it was supper and everyone got down. The three room house smelled of Flobberworm french-style pâté, frozen seaweed and oat cakes. Walden`s wife, a petite woman with ceramic flesh, waist-long fluffy dull black hair and large, kitten-like humide crimson eyes, was standing in the basement kitchen, buttering the pâté on an oat cake. She practically dumped the rest on the table, as usual.  He started to talk about a hippogriff, Buckbeak, that was at trial. When Walden talked about the "business", no one except "insiders" could understand what he said in his scottish gallow slang. His wife asked dryly:"So, when do you plan on takin`ze kid to train 'im.

-Let ma eat, woman."he responded. 

An hour later, everyone had eaten, dishes were cleaned. Walden started packing the blocks of frozen algue in his boat (the only way he could). Someone knocked at the door. 

_Who can knock that awfy late!?_

When he said  _Enter_ , a woman from the Ministry entered, with her surgical mask. She gazed at her seven foot two tall "host" with a little bit of fright. Walden Macnair was sure scary. Not only was he unusually tall, but also he was very pale and muscular, had short, thick, messy dull black hair covered in dried blood and his uneven mustache, yellow teeth and roughly shaved beard gave him the look of a bandit.  He was handsome, in the way manly, creepy and mature men can be. 

The executioner stared at her in frustration before she explained the reason of her visits: "The services you provided to the Prison of Azkaban are no longer required. You do not need to watch over the dementors anymore nor deliver food pass them. The Ministry find your own ability, as well as your wife's, to not be affected by them is now considered dangerous.

-Get out of my home! he responded. Since when it is illegal to not be affected by a dangerous creature?, he protested, this time in standard english except for his accent.  

-No, but it is now illegal to train your child into doing so. After the escape of Sirius Black, precautionary measures had been taken.

-So, what will replace me. Since when dementors can do messages or recognise plants?

-Mr. Macnair, do you remember when Mr. Crouch ordered you to fill Rodolphus Lestrange with dementor fluids?

-Yes. 

-Well, the Ministry do several other experiments similar to this one, but different in nature. Anyhow, it is not why I am here. Mrs Marie Hermine Macnair, (Mrs Macnair ran over, now with a sing around her neck that read: Wife of the Executioner, woman of subversive opinions. Anti-social and dangerous), you are under arrest for corruption of a minor."

Strangely enough, she curtsied before murmuring: "It is an honor to serve the State as a scapegoat. Only, I 'ope I will live long enough to see zat zings will be back to the old, sane ways."     

Walden was surprise to see her with such dignity. Normally, she acted like a brainwashed...bitch.

He will defend her on trial, if their is one, but he won't go to much out of his way. 

Things were strange. He needed to think. He tried to pull the pieces together.  _Experiments...Services not required, dementors..._ As ministry at this was, he puzzled this: the Ministry somehow created half-dementors. He didn't wished to know how to identify them, but it needed to be denounced. The two women left the house. Walden went to the subroom were his son slept. It was on the ground floor, separated from the living area by a yellow store with stylized breaking weals in red embroidery. 

"Da, why do maw got lifted?

-Secret."

Walden laid his puny boy over the bed and bared his bottom. "Forty, and a`m hexing it to stay nipping til back to Hogwarts."Being the sadist he was, he actually enjoy whipping his son, but tried not to abuse of this pleasure. 1...2...3...4...5! A tawse on a white, thin-skinned buttock was very painful. 

After all the lashes, the child was sobbing. Mr. Macnair pushed him against his chest..."Do know why ye skelped, Happy?

-Endangered...family...reputation...by hav...at schule. No...attention...to Mcgonagle. No tawse, please!"

Walden looked right into Happy`s eyes. They were just like he`s mothers except they were stormy blue like his in color. "Da, why do ye like skelpin' ma? asked the cute boy 

-It`s in ma nature. Ye can chose to do somethin', but you cannee chose whether ye enjoy it." 

End


	7. Chapter 6, Things Go Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barty Crouch Jr discovers his father's plans...

 

At the Crouch House

Barty Crouch Jr was reading the Daily Prophet, hidden under an invisibility cloak, in his deceased mother's tea room. It was sickly pastel pink with cream colored lacy decorations everywhere and pale yellow ribbons. The chair he is sitting on was golden and intricate. The journal was just as empty and sappy. Something was missing...After that Death Eater attack, aside from diffamatory articles against the Ministry, there was nothing. Good God! Should there be Aurors patrolling left and right. 

Being locked in his father's house was becoming more and more unbearable. He casted the Dark Mark yesterday after the attack. The cowards ran away.  _I wish they all burn in fucking hell._

Oh, how he missed the times were he was chased after like a rat. Sweet adrenaline running through his veins... Barty was slightly bit of an empathic or masochistic sadist. He loved when he felt horror, pity and shame rose to the maximum and turned to euphoric and exiting pleasure. Except in one situation. When the Dark Lord was displeased by him. The Dark Lord was his god, father and master. Nothing like his real parent to whom he was a trophy. 

He heard an owl ticking against the window. Under an invisibility cloak, he opened it. It held something black and baggy in its beak that was trying to escape. At first he thought it was only some  animal, like a mice or insect, but when the bird opened it's bird-mouth, instead of falling to the floor, it floated. Seeing closer, he noticed it was skeletal and humanoid. It was also very weak...The owl escaped as soon as possible. 

Barty decided to look at the tiny thing closer. It was so cold to the touch...It was like putting his bare hands in icy water when the outside was minus forty. Aside from being unbearably icy, it was all slimy and covered in ethereal black cloth. But it was not a dementor...It's so small.

The End. 


	8. Chapter 7, Sore Eyes Should Never Have to See, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The massive breakout out of Azkaban happen in winter. Prisoners discover something sore eyes should never see.

The Dark Lord was generous to his followers, or so they thought. He casted a massive Alohomora that opened many doors of the hellish place called Azkaban. But he let them struggle their way out, to check who is worth keeping, who not. He flew away immediately. Rabastan had a loud moan of relief. Those dementors, who stayed day and night in his cell were gone. One more day, and he might as well die of hypothermia. The chain at his ankle had busted and the door was open. He had one though: leave and never come back. As soon as he stepped out, he noticed that the corridor was barely any better. Still cold. He reached the end of it that turned.

_I think the high-security is placed at the center, far away from the entrance and windows._

He walked down the next corridor on the right, then the one on the left.In the left one, he saw a full pack of dementors, and he went of the opposite direction. He tried another way, it had a dead end. Thus realized that Azkaban was a giant, multi-story maze. He couldn't left on his own. He was standing at the dead end, trying to think. An eerie, slightly high pitched and rasp with despair voice called: "R-Rabastan"

He thought it was a hallucination. But the death eater heard it again. It was begging for help. He wished to let it be alone and leave. Dementors could be here at any moment and he had his back to the wall. Perhaps the person who called his name could help him, although he doubted.

_What do I have to lose?_

He followed were he remembered the sound and arrived at the cell. It had a rune and a long number. The door was unlocked, at his half-surprise. He, a ruthless Death Eater, only rarely saw anyone in such a poor state. The man who uttered his name was severely underweight, beardless, his prisoner robe, long tangled hair and skin was covered in hoarfrost. The right eye socket was empty. A proto-dementor the size of an insect glidden away coming from it, like the grotesque parody of a tear. He stood straight, and hugged him, or rather tried to take advantage of his bodily warmth. "Rabastan...you...are...so warm, the one-eyed prisoner said.

-Rodolphus is that you!? How did you recognized me?

-Your aura...We grew up together, we share the same blood. And of course it's meh...he answered  

-So your sixth sense is still intact...

-Don't have a choice. If I'm exhausted, I'm blind. I also need time to prepare myself from, those things.

-The Dark Lord unlocked our chains and cells! Let's leave."

Rabastan had to basically carry his older brother in his arms. But Rodolphus was the one leading the way. 

 _Get our wands and leave the hell out of here._  

The corridors were a mess so complex they lost their way several times, had their souls nearly sucked out, and got into many dead ends. For a certain reason, he had the impression that the walls are moving. Rabastan was so tired he let his elder fall on the ground.

Rodolphus tried to used his weak limbs so he can pull out the nail from the door of an empty cell. With considerable effort, he managed to do so. He limped to the wall and carved a large X. 

_He will mark walls we've past. If they return twice either we are walking in circles like idiots or the walls move._

Half an hour later, he realized that the walls were indeed moving and blocking their way. It was driving him mad. They were now deep underground and in front of a large door. He opened it. It was a semi-modern torture chamber. The two rested for a bit before searching for their wands.

Getting out with their wands took five hours and an insane amount of nerve and calories. They were now in the cemetary near the sea. It was a beautiful sight. The grave stones, the pebble shore, the steel water and the dementors, gliding gracefully.   A small, swollen boat was there. Rabastan tried to use Occlumency in order to hide. Even though it was the middle of winter,  it was warmer then inside thanks to the maritime climate. He still used Occlumency when he started to fall asleep. The mad laugh of Bellatrix who followed them awakened him. 

_We`re ready to head home._

Voldemort allowed the Death Eaters who went to Azkaban for him, two weeks to nurse themselves back to health. 

At Lestrange manor

The three of them were in Rodolphus`bedroom. The house elf brought them a meal made of dried edible weed boiled together in a soup, dried pumpkin strips and viburnum tea and cider. It was far from a good one, but compared to uncooked defrosted seaweed with very occasional lichen,  wet stale bread and insects, it was quite delicious. After his stomach was full, Rabastan went to the bathroom. He found a bottle of soon-to-be-outdated tooth enamel renewal potion, three teeth brushes, razors, combs, toothpaste and soap in the mirror-box. Rinsed his mouth with the enamel renewal potion. His gums were on fire from the contact, it tasted like motor-oil flavored soap and liquified his rot. He spitted it in the toilet. The two others did the same an hour later. 

Bellatrix was on the sofa, counting Skele-Gro drops in a separate room.

Rabastan, was in his room with Rodolphus, without that Mad Witch. Rabastan knew he was the only person his brother didn't fear.  It felt him with pride. The slightly older man allowed the younger one to check his scars. All shame had been consumed to the last drop a long time ago. He had a scar across his belly button. It was long and vertical. His urethra had been unnaturally stretched and opened with several markings covering his penis.

"What happened? asked Rabastan

-The ministry is incubating dementors...that will soon serve the Dark Lord. That idiot Crouch, served him right!"

End 


	9. Chapter 8, Sore Eyes Should Never See, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antoinin Dolohov is stuck in the maze called Azkaban. He stumbles on a certain room.

Meanwhile...

The doors had been knocked open...He was free but had to travel to the gates independently. Dolohov was at the very center of his floor, in his cell without windows. He opened the now broken door and felt the icy, rotten aura of the dementors. 

_Thank you, batya*...for teaching me how to withstand  the cold._

The dementors had sucked away his memories of laughing in the snow naked with his father or friends. But his body was still trained to endure low temperatures, so he didn't shiver. The man was never strong, but his resistance and agility made him quite frightening and effective. It was this that allowed him to survive. Many prisoners, even if strong-willed enough to continue wanting to live, died because of the lack of heating. 

Anyway, he very soon realised he was in a giant maze. 


End file.
